


Sometimes It Is, Sometimes It’s Nut

by mhunter10



Series: Something, something mpreg [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, mhunter10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey sometimes has trouble not hating Ian for the situation he's in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes It Is, Sometimes It’s Nut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ayoungrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayoungrat/gifts).



"Just when I’m starting to think I’ve forgiven you, I see myself in the mirror and realize I hate you." Mickey eases himself onto the bed, still naked and dripping wet from his shower. He huffs and shakes his hair so that water droplets spray across Ian’s flesh.

"Hey!" He flinches from the cold surprise, and sits up. The sheets are tangled in his legs, but aren’t actually covering anything. "You don’t hate me, Mickey."

Mickey sighs, as he lazily dries himself off with a towel. He tosses it aside and stares off into the corner of the room, contemplating his next words carefully. “Yes. I really do.”

Ian just chuckles and climbs over to seat himself behind Mickey, wrapping his arms around him and pressing in close. His hands settle instantly on his stomach, like some sort of magnetic pull. He kisses the back of Mickey’s neck and feels him shiver. “I’m not sorry and neither are you, so there’s no need to forgive. Everything’s all good.”

"I’m so fucking tired." Mickey lays his head back on Ian’s shoulder, but then that makes his back hurt so he stops.

"I must have wore you out." Ian was grinning against his ear; fingers absently stroking near his belly button.

Mickey scoffed, “Oh please, it was just a blowjob with some heavy fingering…” Just saying that was making Mickey imagine the two of them about half hour before, groaning and grunting in pleasure. Damn that was a good one. He snapped out of it when Ian was looking at him directly. “Huh? What’d you say?”

Ian shook his head. “Just forget it. I know you don’t mean it. Maybe at first,” Mickey eyed Ian for saying the understatement of the century, “…but you’re just a little cr-….stressed right now.”

Mickey tried to shift as far away from Ian as his grasp was allowing, and hit him with an angry knowing look. “You were gonna say crazy!”

Ian’s eyebrows shot up. “No! No, I wasn’t. I was gonna say…..was gonnna say you’re feeling crappy about how you look right now.” Boy, he sure pulled that out of his ass, but Mickey didn’t buy it for even a second.

"Bullshit. You think I’m being crazy and shit for freaking out every other day. I see myself, and I know what people think."

Ian instinctively held Mickey tighter because he was starting to get a bit emotional. “Fuck everybody else. Let them think whatever they want. It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t even think people care around here. I mean, it’s the South Side.”

Mickey closed his eyes and dropped his head, putting his hands over his knees. He took a long breath. “Sometimes I’m looking at myself in the mirror and I’m wondering if this isn’t all a fucking weird dream…” he admits quietly.

Ian pulls Mickey back against him and rests his head on his shoulder. “Well when I look at you, I just see something really fucking awesome and it makes me want to…just pound the shit out of you.” Ian laughs sheepishly.

Mickey let out a sarcastic yet amused noise. “Yeah, typical response. That makes me feel really special.”

Ian’s hands were still rubbing against the tight warm skin of the other man. “Okay, yes, but it also makes me feel so much….pride, joy, wonder, excitement, everything, that I almost don’t know what to do with myself and I sort of start to freak out like you.”

Mickey tapped Ian’s leg beside his. “I do not freak out. It’s normal.” He pouted.

"That’s what I keep trying to tell you!" Ian laughed, exasperated. He took Mickey’s chin in his fingers and turned his head to kiss him on the lips. Mickey moaned, as Ian deepened it and trailed his other hand up and down his arm and over his thigh.

Mickey pulled away. “What’s not normal, is that I want you to fuck me from behind while I eat, like, ten or fifteen Almond Joys.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. “Good thing I didn’t make the same mistake and get Mounds. You nearly ripped my head off.”

"Hey, sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t." Mickey smirked, raising his eyebrow in that way only he can that drives Ian crazy.

"Like, sometimes you feel pregnant and hate me for knocking you up, and sometimes you don’t?" Ian asked, teasingly but secretly hopeful.

Mickey wasn’t smiling anymore. He grimaced as he tried to get up, but failed. “No, I’m pretty fucking sure I feel pregnant all the time, moron. Thanks for reminding me.”

Ian held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Next time you’re begging and moaning for me to fill you with kids like a cat in heat, I won’t listen.”

Mickey flushed at the remembrance. “So I got carried away….” he put towards his defense.

"Yeah, and now you’re carrying!" Ian perked up sweetly like he just made a really good joke and should be rewarded.

Mickey just stared at him and wondered if their kid was going to be this annoyingly cute and dumb at the same time. Then he realized that kid was using his bladder as a pillow.

"Who said there was even going to be a next time? Now can you fucking help me up already? I have to piss."

"Oh shit, sorry Mick. Here, let me pull you from the front." And he quickly got up and sprang into natural father-mode and goddammit Mickey was not going to cry at how lucky he got with this stupid redhead.

Instead he whined at having three more weeks of all this bullshit, and now he really wanted that Almond Joy.  



End file.
